I Know You
by Impalallama
Summary: No matter how much he tries to hide it, she'll always be able to read him like a book.


"Alex? Come on, Alex, we have to keep going. _Please; _you can do this!"

Elle's hovering over him, watching him like a goddamned mother hen, trying to encourage him to get to his feet so they can keep moving. Having never been fussed over like this, Alex finds it slightly aggravating. He wants to tell her to stop, to leave him alone, but he's too fucking tired and sore to say anything.

Tugging at his sleeves again, Elle urges him on. Alex merely grunts in response when the tugging only succeeds in pulling on what he is now _damned_ sure is his broken rib. Hearing his hiss of pain, Elle quickly backs off, mumbling hurried apologies that send a pang of guilt shooting into Alex.

"I... It's alright, Elle. Just, please, give me a minute..."

She nods mutely and lets him rest, but never stops looking at him with worried, blue eyes. It makes him kind of uncomfortable; no one's ever looked at him like that before. In fact, he can clearly remember a time, back when he was twelve years old, when he had been pushed down the staircase at his school and had broken his arm. There had been no concern from either of his parents, just a quick trip to the hospital to have his arm set and put in a cast, then back home to be ridiculed over how supposedly clumsy he had been.

There was no point in telling his father that he had been pushed, and hadn't just tripped over his own two feet; Adam Shepherd wouldn't have believed him anyway. The man was hard-headed and fully believed that no matter what Alex did he would forever be incompetent. His mother, on the other hand, had disassociated herself with her eldest son long ago and remained passive when it came to confrontations between Alex and his father. Her emotions only came into play whenever Josh was concerned, and back at his house when she explained what had happened only confirmed this.

_I miss your brother, Alex._

_ I know, mom, _Alex thinks, frowning slightly.

"Alex?" Elle asks tentatively when she sees that something has upset her friend. Alex blinks and looks up at her quickly, offering an apologetic smile.

"S-sorry... I was just– never mind." Shaking his head, Alex puts a shaky hand on the ladder behind him to steady himself. Elle moves to help him, but he stops her with an "I can do this," and she backs off, watching him worriedly from the sidelines. Alex gives her a grateful look, then continues to stand.

Hissing when the change of position shifts his broken rib again, he almost falls to his knees. Sucking in a quick breath he manages to catch himself and using the ladder as an anchor he pulls himself up from the disgusting floor where he remains on unsteady feet.

Elle reaches down and grabs the fire axe he had left on the floor and hands it to him, then takes the steel pipe for herself. Alex holds it loosely in one hand as he wraps his other gingerly around his side. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replies, "are you sure you're ready to go now?"

He swallows once, then nods slowly and straightens out as best he can; he's still not used to all this compassion. Then, tightening his grip on the axe he takes a few steps passed Elle and further into the tunnel.

"I'm fine. We have to keep moving. I need to find Josh."

Blue eyes study him for a moment, skeptical, and slightly perturbed by the fact that all he seems to care about is finding his little brother. Despite being a soldier, and his somewhat stony and calm exterior, she knows that he is _not _OK. For one thing, he's hurt; that's clear as day. Second, who would _ever_ be OK with coming home after a few years to find horrifying monsters running around and that everyone in your hometown has disappeared? That your _family _has disappeared?

He hides it well, the fear. He's been good at hiding his emotions since he was eight, but Elle, being his friend since then and even a bit before, knows him too well. Even after a few years apart she can still read him like a fucking picture book. All brightly coloured and impossible not to notice. His eyes always give him away. Even being a cold-looking, steely grey, they have more depth to them than any sort of emotion he can convey with words or expressions. They've always intrigued her, and she's caught herself stealing glances at them from time to time.

So Alex can try and hide it all he wants, but he'll always be as easy to read as one of her younger sister's picture books to Elle.

He turns to her then, just to confirm that she's still here and Elle ignores the fact that he's got blood splashed across face and gives him a reassuring grin. His own lips part in a small semblance of a smile, but the blood on his face only succeeds in making him look like a madman. The axe in his right hand doesn't help. She doesn't let it show that it bothers her, though, and he turns away from her again.

For the first time she notices that the back of his jacket is stained with blood as well; bright as the pictures that she sees whenever she looks at him. As she follows behind him, watching him walk, shoulders hunched slightly and hand pressed against his side, she's not sure she likes any of these pictures at all.


End file.
